Months and weeks consume us as our feet drag in the slowest of shuffles. I've worried for years about my personality and if that's what gets me in the trouble I'm in. Thankfully I have nothing left to worry about, as my thoughts have been more than confirmed. I've infected and emotionally crippled the people I've come into contact with and abandoned, and I'm shocked? I've felt like a horcrux every individual day of my life. And what have I done to change? What can I? How does it take 21 years for a person to develop the ability to recognize their actions and yet still not their face? I feel uneducated about anything to do with myself after over a year of carving myself out until now, I'm more than hollow. I am non-existent, waiting for someone to pick up my crumbling existence and blow it away like dandelion fluff.
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 6:23 PM UTC
i've only been waiting for two years to take a taste of privacy and comfort. i feel all the eyes at all the times when in my home. i've been trying to understand not only why i can't ever be alone with myself but which people and which places are where i call home. some by association? that doesn't quite make sense to me. some of the people i see every day make me call into question where i am and what has changed around me. i feel the spindly fingers making designs on my back, the overwhelming chills of confusion and insanity. I Do Not Give In. i have nothing that insanity wants anymore. it's already taken its pound of flesh and cursed my soul. there is nothing else i can do for it. i'm so tired.
Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 6:32 PM UTC
I'm going insane. He's got swarms of girls flocking each side to scream in his defense. He's got bros upon bros who will vouch for him, even though they know he's worthless. He's got friends in high and low places and moods that dip in between. He's a teen.
He's pathetic, but not scrawny, he's tough and weak and just pain ******* It's difficult to blame him for things that he's done when he blames himself for things that he hasn't. His life is a trapdoor. Anyone who walks through is stuck in a small space which swallows the soul. My soul.
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
Time is stopped and there is a heart on pause pressed into my shoulder. Like a boulder drawing breaths, his lips are on my neck and his hands are in my pocket. A heart shaped locket takes his place as his plane flies and my heart flutters then lies still like time is paused. All I can do is heave into the hollowed porcelain as my heart clanks like hail against the window of my ribs and I want to drive but the storm is too heavy, like it’s winter and I won’t make it home for Christmas in this blizzard.
I draw his face into the stark white canvas with my brush and it may not match the picture, but it matches my memory as my hand stands still and I want to kiss the still-wet green of his eyes. Each step I take is heavy, like the gravity on saturn has taken me over and it feels like I’m walking without time, as his laugh does not echo the halls. Deserted walls and glass coated floors, fallen pictures from slammed doors, swept to the side with unfeelingly cut feet. Isn’t it neat to be numb to most everything and most everyone?
Friends all pretend saying how I feel should be the song I sing to let the halls ring and fill the silences of my hell. They know all too well they are just acting silly, trying to prevent my grey sorrows from clouding my home the way it will. And it will, whether they interrupt my clouds with their poorly painted rainbows or not. Bared feet trip and a heart beat skips repeatedly against the hard wood floor that is pressed against a face that feels like mine. I know the news before they come; I’m not dumb. Yet it is hard to pretend to such prestigious people that everything in this house is fine.
Men as tall as skyscrapers, dressed as sharply as a new pair of scissors, clip the tips of my fingers to ice cold shreds with a typed out letter and a whispered apology. Like any sorry is going to take my broken heart and tie all of the dead pieces together. Life is paused as I remember the tear that swam in his eyes but didn’t fall. The tear that glided back into his ducts and didn’t survive to prove he’d yearn for me in the lengthening midnights. As though he would have rather been more man than lover and our good bye could be easily cut short. His letters were tear stained and curt, stopped short and sweet so many months ago that I knew then, what I definitely know now, in my heart.
I can’t stop the slam of the door, the noise that falls before it hits my ears as men shocked with the electricity of my energy leap about an inch off the cemented porch. My heart pounds and I can feel myself chasing a target unknown that just grows in my mind’s eyes. I feel as though my friends are spies and if I don’t move fast enough, they’ll destroy my plans and convince me that anything besides what my hammering heart wants will be more valuable. As if there are canons going off, my feet race across the hard wood floors and I know one thing.
I miss him.
But I’ll see him soon.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 9:47 AM UTC
I thought I was twitching
From the glitching system of time
But it seems my thoughts have
Turned to you
I thought I had stuttered
From my muttering mind
Coughing up words
That have nothing to do
With the world formed around me
And the people all stuck there
Because the image of you is
Built in my brain and I can't shake it out
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC
And on my quest I travelled far
It was feelings I sought out
With mud I covered all my scars
And I did not but scout
I didn’t wander past the trees
It didn’t cross my mind
I ignored the gentle tugging breeze
And somehow prayed that I could find
A way to smother this numbing ache
That was clouding up my soul
A simple breath was all I could take
I didn’t know I was a fool
And though I travelled farther
Than I travelled ever before
I ended up where I started;
Always wanting more
Oct 22, 2017
Oct 22, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC
she brushed her hand against the window
like wind pushing against the glass
forming a heart in the steam created
by our bodies crushed together
moving slowly to a rhythm
that's sculpted by the fast paced
"bud dum" of our hearts pressed together
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 10:09 AM UTC
I wasn’t being rude to you but to him;
He who thought he could scale mountains and climb trees
And jump off all without actually having to fall
I wasn’t being cruel to those who mourn,
But that with which caused the sorrow, as tomorrow
He’ll be not but a fading memory that can’t stick
What’s his face? You’ll cling so desperately to pain
It will be sickening to watch and even worse to try to bear
Until the faint of heart stop beating themselves
Into shuddering piles of agony
We must all prepare for our own destruction
We must make the beds that we will lay in forever
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 2:46 PM UTC
Look. I can't change the way that things happened or how they will. I can't prevent you from crying or even hurting at all, and I know that's my own fault. I've stopped time for you but I can't change time in itself, I can't change what happened or how I reacted or all of the things that I'm ashamed of. I'm just. I'm tired of pretending I'm some saint who can fix everything that happened I don't want to pretend for you, you don't deserve that, I've pretended way too much..
If I can stop the world from changing as slowly and effectively as it does.. for you.. for just a second. I just want to show you what you look like to me now and in this moment; so beautiful; so strong and consistent; so deserving.
You'll never listen fully to everything I have to say and you'll never grasp the concept of the fact that you deserve things far better than me. To quote the analogy of a friend.. you're a 50¢ coin.. I'm a penny. I'm the grimiest, most rusted, two faced, over used penny you'll ever see, ever meet, ever know. You know me. And I'm so sorry for the hell that that brings you.
I'm a bitter bully who drags you out, out of her way, into every beautiful place you've ever known and I leave myself there, in a kiss, in a touch, in the whisper of your name until you blame yourself for why you hate them and can never and will never return.
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 12:10 PM UTC
I don't feel sick.
I don't feel the cold sweat spread across my skin as the infection travels
That sweat was already there
It appears every morning when I wake
Its dampening presence will either grow
Or stay consistent
It comes with fighting for the control over my mind
So be I laying with a fire of infection
Roaring a dangerous path across my
Star bound body and
Constellation of veins
The cold sweat will not be a giveaway
The aching muscles are there with the fight
They grow tense and release
All of my stress before re-clenching
And holding that infection
That's burning a hole through the fabric of my existence
In place
As it casts it upon every piece of my soul
I am dangerous to myself
I am my own demise as every clenched tooth
Begins to clench harder
The stress appearing in the bulging vein
That goes across my temple after
Working its way up my neck
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 4:17 PM UTC